


Lost in Translation

by Quilly



Series: The Garden of Fate [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Soulmate AU, but is really stupid about it, in which karkat knows what the word on his wrist means eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4975537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quilly/pseuds/Quilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat can't read the name inked onto his wrist.</p><p>Neither can Jade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Translation

**Author's Note:**

> soulmate au dump. the prompt for this one was "your name is written on your soulmate's wrist but in your language. since trolls and humans use a different alphabet this causes confusion"

==>Karkat: Despair over soulmate script

Your name is Karkat Vantas and the name on your right wrist in bright hellacious green makes no sense to you.

For one, you can’t even read it. It’s some dumb alien language. For another, there are just four characters. For a third, _bright green?_ Nobody is unfortunate enough to have blood that color; they wouldn’t have lived long enough.

At least your left wrist makes sense. Whoever “Gamzee Makara” is, they’re one unlucky doofus.

It’s just those two. You are more self-conscious about that than you meant to be. Hey, one more weirdness about being a mutant, right? Only two names.

On anon you casually put out a query on a soulmate thread about the significance of having a weird alien name. The replies range from “liar” to “kinky” and they’re all stupid. Until—

_Hello I See That You And I Have A Similar Problem. Four-Character Alien Script On Your Wrist?_

You get her troll handle post-haste because any freak with the same problem as you might have some insight.

In all, there are four of you—Kanaya Maryam, Terezi Pyrope, and Vriska Serket are the other idiots. And it makes no sense to any of you, but as the Game starts, other things take priority than dumb names on wrists.

And then everything goes nightmarishly wrong…only for you to be put into contact with weirdo aliens called humans that have a weird script you can suddenly read thanks to Mad Game Haxx.

They have four-letter names.

One has green eyes.

Your blood-pusher jumps into your throat and you sweat obscenely. You flip a chair and brood in a corner but cannot concede defeat gracefully.

Jade promises that one day you’ll meet, one day when the sessions start to merge, and you believe her because maybe…just maybe…she’s realized what the name on her wrist means, too.

==>Jade: Realize what the name on your wrist means

Your name is Jade Harley and sshhh, naptime now.

==>Now?

Yes, now! You won the game! Everyone is alive and taking some well-deserved R-n-R, so no disturbing, please!

==>But…the plot

Oh, fine.

==>Jade: Get the ball rolling already

Fine, fine, no need to be so pushy!

You yawn and stretch at the behest of a niggling voice telling you to wake up, you’ve forgotten something. You rub your face, then pull your hand back to look at your wrist. There it is, your soulmate tattoo, six spiky characters in bright red. You never really did figure out what it meant. It didn’t really matter anyway. You roll out of your hammock and into the kitchen, looking for noms. Because noms are imperative when waking up from a _very nice_ nap!

Karkat is in the kitchen, looking at something—oh, his wrist. You smile your greeting and shrug it off when he violently puts his arm behind his back, blushing. He’s so weird.

You get out a box of Oreo cookies. Karkat wordlessly reaches out to grab one. You slap his hand. He cradles it against his chest, pouting and surprisingly quiet. You look at him to grin, then frown.

He has red eyes. Still strained through with grey, but it’s in random streaks.

You grab his head and look very intently at his eyes.

“Jade,” Karkat says, “you have three seconds to either let go—”

You hold out your right wrist. “What does this say?”

Karkat glares, his cheeks going very red. “What does it—”

“I have a hypothesis!” you say. “What does it say?”

He looks down and away, gently taking your wrists in his hands and prying you off.

“It’s my name,” he says quietly.

You look at the weird letters. Then up at Karkat. Then at your wrist. Then back to Karkat.

“That’s a relief,” you say, and go back to your Oreos.

Karkat stares. “E-excuse me?”

“That’s a relief,” you repeat, swallowing a mouthful of cookie. “Since I already really, really like you, that makes it a lot easier!”

Karkat stares some more, like he expects something else. You lean over under the sink, swig a mouthful of water to get the Oreo out of your teeth, then stand up, walk towards him, and kiss him.

Karkat flails a little, like he doesn’t know where to put his hands, then settles on your hips. After a few moments he pushes back a little.

“I’ll have you know that drinking out of the sink is disgusting,” he says. “Use a cup like a civilized sentient being.”

“Never,” you say. “Less lecturing, more making out.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Karkat says, and then the two of you lived sexily ever after, making out a lot and building a new world together with all your friends.


End file.
